A New Kind of Evil (KTA)
by AutobotGuy710
Summary: G1. AU. WARNING: Dark Fic. During his time in the war, Jazz has seen many evils. But none of those could prepare him, or the other Autobots, for a truly evil crime among humans that unexpectedly lands on their doorstep: the act of child trafficking. Now part of the KTA challenge!
1. An Escape in the Night

A/N: Alright, so this fic is being written as one of my shorter stories - The Boy and the Beast - is close to conclusion so this will be taking its spot while I take a break from the "bigger" fics. This has been a plot bunny in my head for months now, but only recently did I flesh it out. I hope you'll all enjoy it as it's quite a bit different than my other fics. VERY different actually.

That said...

 **WARNING:** The following fic is VERY, VERY dark. I'm going to keep it rated T but depending on where it goes, it may go up to M due to the past events within the fic. This fic will have a background and some plotlines about **HUMAN TRAFFICKING** and will probably cover child abuse of the phsyical, sexual, and psychological kind. You have been warned so hopefully anyone who may be triggered by these things reads this!

PAIRINGS: Basically any canon G1 pairings. Though I doubt any will have focus.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Transformers! I own Conner and any other OCs.

* * *

 **CHAPTER 1  
An Escape in the Night**

His lungs burned with every passing breath, knees quivering, and body shaking.

In the darkness of the night, he could still hear his pursuers. Their boots hit the ground at a fast rate, and their dogs sniffed and barked loudly as they lead the way. Tears stung his eyes as he turned to dare a look into the darkness, but thankfully, it seemed that Conner Banning had seemingly kept some distance up ahead of the men that currently kept him captive.

He'd changed many hands since he was kidnapped at five years old. The people he'd belonged to ranging from modern day slavers who ran big farms or houses, to disgruntled families whose children were taken from them for good reason, to big, posh businessmen with a "thing" for young boys and no desire to be caught.

They said that slavery was dead in America, and had been or a long time. But Conner was living proof that was a lie.

He hardly remembered being taken, as it had been so long ago. He'd been playing just outside his home, if he remembered correctly. A nice home in a nice community, too. Sure, that had made the beat up truck seem suspicious, but at five he hadn't thought much of it. Not until the two men had leapt out, and dragged him kicking and screaming inside.

The police looked for him for months, with his original captor, a man who ran an illegal "sweatshop" type of workhouse, watching very closely. He remembered that his parents were greatly upset - and tried hard to find him too... A fact which he now found odd given how few "happy" memories he had of them left. A part of him had always wondered if it was an act, especially as his captors had drilled into him how he was unloved, uncared for, and sold to them...

He often wondered if it was true. Had they really sold him into this life?

Whatever the case, eventually, the police stopped searching. His case went cold, and no one was looking for him anymore, as far as he knew. Conner had just turned thirteen, meaning he'd spent the last eight years among this small ring of slavers that operated out of North America. Hardly anyone probably thought he was alive, let alone thought of looking further for him.

How he'd finally gotten the courage to make the run for help, he wasn't sure of. Maybe it was that he'd finally had enough, maybe it was all those years of anger being pent up in his body. But that night, when the man he'd currently "belonged" to came into his bedroom, he'd taken a piece of glass he'd broken off his window, and stabbed him in the leg.

There hadn't been time to grab what little possessions he had. Instead, he'd taken off into the night with the other men who'd lived in the home in hot pursuit. The Oregon night air was cold, and a part of him wanted to stop. But at the same time he knew if he did now, he'd be thoroughly punished by his captors, maybe even killed and buried in some unmarked grave like so many threatened.

His brown eyes searched quietly for somewhere to hide. And though it took some time, just when he'd about given up he found it: a hollow log. It was with great difficulty that he managed to move his thin body inside of it, and lay there, but at last, he'd managed.

No more than five minutes later, he heard the men.

The dogs were barking more loudly now, sniffing all around. It was all that Conner could do to keep himself from whimpering as they came closer and closer. "Damn mutts, we've been searching for hours," he heard one of them hiss. "Where is that brat?"

"I don't know. Maybe he went further in."

"Probably did," the first voice responded a groan escaping his lips. "This is gonna suck. If we lose him, not only are we gonna have to pack up and vacate... But Drake's gonna be so pissed. He really liked that kid."

"I always thought he was a dirty little thing," the second voice mused. "I like mine bigger, more meat."

They continued to stand there for a while, and all the while, the dogs sniffed. Conner knew that at any moment, they could give away his location. That the men could take him by his legs, and drag him out and back to their cabin. Tears stung his eyes as he closed them, waiting for that dreaded moment. They made it sound like they'd want him alive. But in all reality, he'd rather just be dead and get it over with. Anything was better than this, ANYTHING.

There was a loud grunt, and then the first voice spoke up again. "Alright, let's get out of here. Keep moving... He can't have gotten far."

And then they were gone.

Conner could hardly believe it, but the dogs had moved on too. And soon, he could hear the footsteps, and barking getting fainter, and fainter, until he couldn't hear them at all.

It would be another two hours before he allowed himself to squirm free. It was even darker than it had been when he'd fled the cabin, and he could barely see anything in the forest. He couldn't hear anyone either, which was a great blessing...

He was free. He couldn't believe it, but he'd done it.

Standing to his feet, he realized he had a new problem: getting out of the forest. In his time there, he hadn't seen any nearby roads. He'd been brought to the cabin in a trunk, so he had no idea where to even start either. All he could see was the dormant volcano, Mount St. Hillary that the men had mentioned in the distance, and lots of trees.

He hugged himself slightly, rubbing his arms in a futile attempt to keep warm. And with what courage he had, braved the walk in the direction of the dormant volcano. A location like that might have meant hikers, people, help... Help... Would anyone even believe him? Would anyone even know who he was?

He could only wonder all of this as he silently dragged himself towards his destination.

* * *

Jazz had seen a lot of humans in his life, but this... This was something else.

His patrol had been mostly uneventful, given the lack of activity at this time of the evening. In fact, he'd been ready to pull out and drive back to The Ark when he'd found something was amiss... At first, when he'd been driving near the edge of the forest, he'd thought the child was some sort of plant. But upon closer inspection, he'd found otherwise - much to his disturbance.

Jazz had seen a lot of humans, that was true. But this boy...

The child had to be in young adolescence, Jazz figured by his bone structure. But he was so small for his age, he could have still passed for a young kid. He looked to be fed, but at the same time, he didn't appear to be getting fed enough, seemingly more skinny than the special ops bot liked. But that wasn't even the most concerning, no - those were the bruises. The deep, dark colored bruises that lined either of his arms, and what he could see of his back.

The boy lay on the ground unconscious, by the looks of it having collapsed from exhaustion. He barely wore anything on his body. Simply dressed in an oversized night shirt that was marked "XXXL" and a pair of underwear, which told him that wherever this boy came from, he wasn't a camper. No, this looked like someone who'd been running from something - or someone.

Moving one hand underneath the collapsed boy, he carefully lifted him. Thankful to find he was indeed only passed out, given his stomach moved up and down with rythm. But none-the-less, feeling his tanks churn as he tried to process where this boy came from. What was he doing half-naked and alone out in the middle of November? Where were his parents? Why'd he look as though he hadn't even seen the sunlight in several months?

 _"Yo, doc bot you awake?"_

Jazz waited a good minute before he got Ratchet's response. _"I am now. Better have a good reason to be waking me up this early..."_

 _"I need ye to open up the med bay. I have a possible emergency."_

 _"Slaggit, Jazz. What did you do to yourself NOW?"_

Jazz frowned slightly, not amused at all. What had he done? OK, sure, he was probably just as danger prone as the twins, but he wasn't THAT bad. _"Not for me... It's for a human."_

 _"Excuse me?"_

 _"I've got a half-naked teenager lying with severe bruising at the edge of the forest,"_ Jazz replied, trying to keep calm. _"I'd say the little fella just wandered away from camp. But slag... This kid looks like he's in really bad shape, doc."_

 _"Bring him to me at once,"_ Ratchet didn't even hesitate, and Jazz wasn't surprised given the description he gave. _"Get him inside your alt mode and warmed up. In this weather he has a good chance of catching a cold or worse..."_

 _"You got it."_

Jazz was careful to transfom around the young human, blasting the warm air in his cab. The boy barely stirred, quiet whimpers escaping his form, though he showed no signs of waking. Yet Jazz wished he would, given the fact that it would help to know where this boy came from... If they could call anyone to help him. After all, he highly doubted that a young child had no one out looking for him.

Using his car mode, he decided to make a quiet scan of the area. Perhaps there was someone nearby who could answer his questions. Or perhaps some sort of clue... But he found none. There were no other humans nearby, and the boy seemed to carry nothing on him. Nothing but the clothes he wore on his back.

A half-naked boy in the dead of winter... Exposed to the elements.

Jazz hated where his mind was already going with this.

* * *

"And you found him at the edge of the forest?"

Ratchet had the child on a medical berth at once, carefully examining him. Jazz himself was close by, looking down upon the human as well. He had been curious about what Ratchet might have to say on the matter, after all, and he'd be lying if he said he didn't want to know where this boy had come from should he have woken up.

He nodded his head slowly, looking him over again. "Yeah, kid was just laying there... Like he'd collapsed," Jazz explained as he got closer toward the subject at hand. "What does it look like to you, doc bot?"

Ratchet shook his head slowly, looking the boy up and down. Jazz could tell that Ratchet was equally stumped by the whole thing. "I don't know. But these bruises seem to tell me he was in a struggle recently," he noted, trying to keep calm. "One he lost badly. In fact, I would say it was one-sided."

"But he tried to fight back?"

Ratchet nodded his head. "I would say perhaps he's a victim of sexual assault left for dead. Something I hear sometimes happens on this planet. The lack of clothing makes me lean toward that," he explained, his voice cracking at the very idea. "But we shouldn't jump too far to conclusions until he's awake and we can speak to him ourselves."

Jazz nodded his head sadly. Looking down at the boy with sympathy in his spark. Whoever had hurt the boy, he already knew them to be a coward. Because no matter how one could paint the picture, a boy like this coming out of a one-sided fight looking this way... He cringed inwardly at the thought of what it could mean. After all, though Earth was a violent place, there were terrible things done to the young on Cybertron - especially those in the caste system.

After a moment, he looked over at Ratchet quietly. "We need to tell Prime about this."

"I'm already working on that," Ratchet replied. "With how weak the boy is he could be unconscious for a couple of hours, or even a couple of days. So he needs to know about our new visitor at the very least."

Jazz nodded his head, turning around to leave the med bay. "Let me know if the li'l guy wakes up, will ye doc?" he asked, his voice tense. "May not know this kid. But I'm the one who found 'im. I wanna know if he's gonna be OK."

"I'll let you know when I accept visitors if he's awake," Ratchet replied, of course he would put it that way. "For now, you should go, leave me to work on his injuries."

"Whatever you say."

Jazz gave one last look over his shoulder at the boy. Silently, he hoped whatever this boy had gone through, the ordeal was over now. That he could put it behind him, and get the help he needed.

Little did he know just how deep this went... Or what it meant for him, and the boy.

* * *

A/N: So what do you think? Like it? Hate it? Hopefully I did a good enough job!


	2. Speculation

A/N: Wow, thank you all for your reviews, favorites, and subscribes! Your outpouring to this experimental fic of mine makes me so happy. :)

* * *

 **CHAPTER 2  
Speculation**

"Where am I!? What is this!?

"Shhhh young one, you're safe now, please relax."

Ratchet watched as the young boy trembled, but tried to keep calm. He d no idea who this boy was, or what he was going through, and thus, keeping his cool was necessary. Carefully approaching the boy again, he watched as the boy scooted further away, attempting not to freak out. "My name's Ratchet," he offered. "And I promise you I am not going to hurt you... In fact I may very well have saved your life."

The boy sat there for a long moment, eyes tracing Ratchet. After a moment though, the medic nodded his head. "Would you like some real clothes? A friend of mine has brought some here for you," Ratchet explained, trying to be gentle. "Your clothes were so torn, and you are barely dressed."

The boy stared down as Ratchet set clothes in front of him. There was a clean pair of jeans, underwear, and a t-shirt. Ratchet watched as the dirty blonde teen looked from it, and then to him. "You won't hurt me...?" he asked in a raspy, and fearful voice. "Even if I get dressed?"

"I offered you the clothes, didn't I?"

Taking the hint, Ratchet turned around slowly. It was a long few moments as he heard rustling, slow but deliberate. It was clear that the boy was in severe pain from the bruises and that made it something for the medic to watch. "Where am I...?" He heard the child ask.

"Mount St. Hillary," Ratchet replied. "A ship called "The Ark"."

"A spaceship?"

"Yes," Ratchet turned to find the boy had slowly dressed in the clothes offered. "Young one, I do not mean to be curt. But we found you half-naked in the woods... Can you tell me where you came from? Who hurt you?"

The boy looked scared at the notion. Perhaps fearful of whoever it was that had done it to him. After a long moment, he tried to keep his utmost cool. "Conner," the boy, now named "Conner", managed. "And I um... I don't know his name. They never gave me their real names... He told me to call him "dad"."

Well then, this certainly wasn't the work of his parents. Or the man wouldn't have had to ask him to call him that. Ratchet bristled slowly, looking down upon the boy. "And where you came from?"

Conner was silent, trying to ascertain an answer there. "A cabin... But I used to live in an apartment. And before that I was in a warehouse," he replied. "Then a home in the suburbs, and..."

"A cabin was the only answer I needed," Ratchet paused. "I don't suppose you'll tell me what happened or what you were doing there..."

Conner looked thoughtful, not wanting to do that just yet. After all, how did he know he could trust them? These were clearly aliens... Giant robot aliens. And while this one seemed nice for all he knew, "Ratchet" was going to turn him over to the people he just came from. After all, he couldn't remember where he came from - or if Conner was even his real name by now.

Ratchet nodded his head passively. He understood that, given all that he could tell from looking at him. This boy clearly did not know what was happening here, or who they were. The fact they got a name was enough for the moment. "I take it I shouldn't look for the cabin to bring you home?" the fearful look on Conner's face was more than enough answer. "Don't worry - I will not. I simply had to be sure."

"That wasn't my home."

Ratchet was liking what was happening even less now. Who was this boy, and why had he moved around so much? Taking a deep breath, he nodded. "Whatever it was to you then... You don't have to go back. Not with bruises such as this," he explained, then shook his head. "I just needed to know if anyone would have missed you the past two days."

"Two days!?" Conner asked in surprise.

"Yes, two days," Ratchet replied. "You collapsed at the edge of the forest. We were unable to wake you up."

Conner breathed in sharply, probably taking that in now. Though to his surprise, Conner seemed to relax more than anything. Perhaps seemingly sure he had outrun someone? That was his thinking at the very least. "How far are we from the forest?" He asked quietly.

"Again, we're in the mountains. So a very great distance," Ratchet replied. "Do not worry, Conner. You're safe."

He was going to reiterate that in hopes the boy would believe him. Conner simply stared at the older mech for a long moment, but nodded his head. After a long moment, Ratchet pointed something out in a calm manner. "Conner, I'd like to point something out. And I only ask this because I'm a doctor, and I need to know," Ratchet explained. "Wounds on your legs, rear, back, and arms suggest you were sexually assaulted... More than once by my estimates, is that accurate?"

Conner seemed to tense up greatly at that, answering his question without needing to say a word. Ratchet felt as though he would be sick. This boy was barely a teenager and he'd been through several of these? In only about forty-eight hours by his estimates? What was the meaning of this? No child should be having such intercourse, or be damaged during it.

Conner looked at him after a long silence, and asked quietly. "Are you asking if I've been raped...?"

"I believe that is the informal human term for it, yes."

"... Yes." Conner managed even more softly.

"How many times? Because I hardly believe this is from one incident."

There was another deep silence as Conner inverted into himself. "Have you got anything to eat? I'm hungry..."

It was clear the boy was trying to dance around the subject. A fact which made Ratchet's spark fall a bit, because it told him that it was far more than once. All the same, he couldn't force their new friend to talk. "Yes, yes I believe that our human friends left some for when you woke up," the medic managed. "Let me go check on it."

As he moved over to make a com link, he could only contemplate where this boy have come from.

* * *

"If a pedophile had a hold of him long enough to rape him that much, I don't get how they got away with it."

The words reverberated off the walls as Jazz, Ratchet, Ironhide, and Optimus Prime all met later that day. The Autobot commander had asked to talk about it with Jazz and Ratchet while Ironhide was also curious. But Jazz could already tell that the two of them had questions before they even asked it. "What in the pit is a "rape"?" Ironhide asked. "Don't think ah've heard that human term before."

Jazz was silent as he looked at Ratchet. They both knew for separate reasons. As part of special ops Jazz had learned of the seedier pars of human history, and Ratchet, for medical reasons. "Rape is the act of forcing interfacing on another human being," the medic decided to explain himself. "Normally it is violent, as, again, the first individual is forcing themselves on the..."

"Wait a fragging second!" there was a snarl in Ironhide's voice. "Are you telling me someone forced that little boy to have intercourse with them!? What kind of disgusting fragging pit-spawned..."

"I'm afraid it was mostly one-sided given his damaged..."

Jazz shook his head, putting his hands on his hips. He wanted to give his two cents into this, despite the fact that he probably was a little less informed than Ratchet. "Like Ratchet said, they call people that do things like this pedophiles, from what I know. A group of people who enjoys the company of sparklings," he explained. "I've read that when they're caught they go to jail... But, well, not for as long as one would hope."

Ironhide felt his tanks churn in complete and utter disgust. While Optimus' optics had lost their usual calmness, turning into ones that appeared dark - something they only did when he was angry. " Forget jail! Humans that would do that to a child should be _dead_ ," Ironhide snapped. "How can people get away with this?"

Of course, Jazz knew they all looked at it from their culture's perspective. Cybertronian sparklings and younglings were both held in great reverence, by both Autobot and Decepticon alike. Violence against them was a horrible crime in and of itself. But the thought of forcing intercourse on them... Well, it had happened rarely, and they hadn't even had a word for it. But it was a crime that if you were to enact, you had better have hoped for a swift death.

Here on Earth, it was frowned upon, and seen as disgusting. And of course, it was a crime punishable by jail time. But from a species with such a culture it was just simply not enough. Optimus looked at Ratchet, trying to remain calm. "Did the boy say where this 'rape' occurred? Or who the perpetrators were?"

"He mentioned living in a cabin, and that it wasn't his home," Ratchet replied honestly, his voice cracking. "Outside of giving his name as Conner, that was about all I could get out of him."

"Ah'll be happy to hunt for that cabin," Ironhide replied, his voice loud and angry. "By the time anyone who lives there knows what hit 'em, they'll-."

Optimus held up a hand to stop Ironhide. Clearly, although emotions were running high, they couldn't simply jump to doing anything such as this. "As much as I agree justice needs to be served, Ironhide, we need more information," he explained. "We do not know that this "rape" actually took place there."

Jazz bristled a bit. "We could at least scope it out," Jazz explained. "... I've never heard of someone keeping a kid like that. A lot cases of them killing their victims, but not that. But suppose that's exactly what happened."

"Which is consistent with my theory it happened multiple times."

Jazz nodded his head, leaning towards believing Ratchet's belief in regards to that. "I say we go and find out what we can. We know this cabin's in the forest somewhere," Jazz replied. "Maybe if we can get the li'l fella to give us some sort of location we can go and scope it out. If it ain't where he was kept, maybe it's his creators. They'd probably be worried sick."

But inside, they all had a feeling that they wouldn't find that. If this boy was too afraid to speak, who knew how long he'd actually been kept there. "I still insist we learn more of his situation first. So that we do not put the child in danger," they could at least all agree there. "Is he comfortable in the medical bay for the moment, Ratchet?"

"Hard to tell, he barely talks," Ratchet admitted. "But he seems to be."

Optimus nodded his head in response. Then added, rather firmly. "Then he shall stay in there until we have earned his trust. Then perhaps we can get him to open up," he explained, then added. "Until we know more about how he came to be in this predicament, I suggest we do not inform human authorities of his presence here..."

"We'd be interfering then." Ratchet piped up.

"Even so, we cannot be sure who it is that held this child. If they indeed have," Optimus explained, clearly not backing down on the subject. "Nor do we know how quickly they could take him back. So until we are able to make a clear decision on how to help him, he will remain here. His abductors, if that is what they are, will be hard pressed to find him here."

"Ah agree with Prime," Ironhide replied. "We got the room. And if he feels safe he'll probably be more keen to open up."

"That goes the same for me."

Ratchet sighed quietly, seemingly frustrated at being outvoted. After a long moment, he finally nodded his head slowly. "Very well, I guess that's that then," Ratchet placed his hands on his hips and then added. "For the moment, I do need to go check on him. Make sure he hasn't hurt himself and all."

Jazz immediately asked. "Can I see the li'l guy? I still want to see that he's OK."

Ratchet looked thoughtful at Jazz. But after a long moment of thought, he shook his head. "I'll let you see him tomorrow, but he is still very weak and scared," he replied, a comment that Jazz understood but felt disappointed by. "Tomorrow, I'll let him have minimal visitors, and we'll move on from there."

"As you wish," Optimus nodded. "I will relay all of this to Prowl upon his return from patrol."

As they all broke off, Jazz quietly thought over all they had learned. A part of him wanted to just transform, and take off in search of this cabin. But at the same time, he also knew that they were probably doing the right thing,waiting. But he swore to himself that if there was someone out there in a cabin, getting away with this...

By Primus, he'd make sure that whoever they paid for this.


	3. Introductions

**CHAPTER 3  
Introductions**

"Hey li'l fella! How you feelin'? My name's Jazz."

Conner felt a little scared by the friendly looking white mech as he entered the room. He was the first Autobot he'd met since he'd woken up the day before, and given he had no idea of their intentions... Well, who knew what he could expect. They claimed he was safe there, and that they would protect him. But who knew if he could trust any of them - especially one where he could only see a visor, and no eyes or optics as he called it.

Yet, somehow he did like the way the mech seemed to give a friendly smile, and a calm aura.

That didn't mean he'd keep his guard down, however. Especially not as he carefully approached the medical berth, which made him back up a little. "'Ey, easy there, Conner. I promise, I'm not here to hurt you. I ain't a fragging monster - I don't touch or hurt sparklings," Conner deduced it was their word for kids. "I uh... Just wanted to see you, y'know. I was the one that found you in the forest."

Conner's eyes traced the mech's face as he realized this was the mech that supposedly saved his life. After a long moment, he decided to ask the question racking his brain. "Why did you bother? I'm not even your species," it was a question he found viable. "You could have just-."

"Left you there to offline? Shoot, kid! I ain't sparkless!" Jazz explained, his voice filled with shock. "You were laying there half-dead, like I was gonna turn the other way? Shoot, no! I'm just glad I wasn't too late."

Conner didn't respond to that, unsure of how to. Jazz however, seemed intent on being very friendly. And after a moment, he brightened even more. "Hey! I almost forgot. I went to the human city with my friend, Spike, earlier. I got you something!" the mech dug in his subspace a good moment before nodding. "Ah, here we go... Uh think of it as a get well present... Or some sorta gift of good will."

Conner was surprised as the mech gently set a small stuffed bear on the berth. It was a nice one, not too big, but not too small, and brand new. This was unusual to Conner, as "gifts" he got from anyone were usually old and raddy, and when he was still a small child - used to lure him into a false sense of security. But this was new, clearly bought at a store, and with good intentions behind it.

He watched a full four minutes before responding. Making sure at first that it was an actual gift, and not such a lure. But once Jazz had simply stood there all that time, he took the bear. It was as soft as it looked, and as he pulled it to his chest, it was squishy too, with lots of stuffing it seemed. "T... Thank you," Conner replied quietly. "For saving me... I guess. And this. But you probably shouldn't have bothered."

Jazz shook his head. "Of course I should have saved ye..."

"Not a lot of me left to save, if you didn't notice," Conner replied honestly. "You all should have left me... I'm not worth it. They all say I'm not worth anything..."

"Who all?" Jazz asked, his voice seemingly filled with a bit of anger. "The same people that left you like that? Because if it was them, you can forget what they said. They're sick, and deserve to be put in jail."

Conner knew it was true - of course. After years, they had been the constant adults in his life - the pedophiles, the slavers, the abusers. But he knew it wasn't the norm. He knew that out there were adults who loved and cherished their kids. Some of his owners had them, in fact, when it came to the slavers. To them, kids like Conner weren't "children", but often property.

It made it hard to know who to trust in that way. Even if he went back into the world, how would he know who to trust? How would he know by how they treated other people if they weren't behind closed doors a deranged monster? How could he ever learn to really trust again? He felt tears sting his eyes at that moment. Realizing that with all they'd said, even if he went back to the parents who supposedly loved him, he couldn't even trust that the words of the many people who passed him around weren't true.

The words of them reverberated in his head.

So many asked if anyone was going to be missing a kid like him. If they needed to change his name, or anything like that. But the ring that he was passed around in had said that it was a very low chance. Despite their attempts to find him in the news that they were the ones who sold him to his supposed kidnappers. That they would never actually go looking for him again.

Was it all lies, or could he really never even trust his own parents?

He felt a finger touch his cheek, and nearly pulled back. Except he noticed the finger never moved anywhere else, no, instead the giant one rubbed it carefully. "Hey, it's alright, kid," Jazz told him, of course he was the owner of the giant digit. "I know you may need to leak... I hear it's good to healin'. But I promise ye, everything's gonna be alright. We'll take good care of ye. And then when ye decide to tell us more, we're gonna help ye."

Could anyone really help him though? Conner wasn't very sure on the matter. Sure, these were giant robots who could probably crush his abductors without a single thought. But that didn't make the monsters left in the world go away. "Can anyone help me...?" Conner replied shakily. "Even if you really want to..."

Jazz was silent at that, but after a moment smiled. "I don't know, buddy. But we're gonna try," he promised the scared young man. "You can trust the Jazz man. I've taken down a lot of creeps in my day. And I promise ye, these guys are gonna be on my list if they can be."

Conner looked up at Jazz with such hope that he was right. Sure, it wouldn't make every monster disappear. But if these people could somehow pay for what they did to him? Well, at least he'd feel a little safer then. But he didn't want to get his hopes up either. Jazz seemed so genuine in the way he was approaching him. And Conner was at least leaning towards the fact that the mech would not hurt him...

But the fact he was a good person didn't mean that he could do anything about it. After all, how many people had probably tried as he remained missing for all those years? "I want to believe you," he explained. "But I don't know if you can do anything... Even if you wanted to, Jazz."

"Neither do I, kid," Jazz replied, a smile on his face. "But it won't stop me, or us, OK?"

Conner could only nod, though as Jazz took his finger back, he felt a slight bit better. As weird as it was, for the first time, he had a feeling he'd never thought he'd have again. Hope. This mech had given him the hope that perhaps they could help him...

If he was as lucky as he seemed, that is.

* * *

"I think I actually got through to the kid a bit."

"That's a good thing, at least, but don't jump to conclusions. You still don't fully know what this boy went through."

Jazz knew that Prowl was probably very right about that. But he still wanted to believe that he could get through to this kid. He seemed so pained, and horrified about everything. Something which made him want to keep him safe and moreover, help him. Of course, this was because of his nature... He'd always loved sparklings and younglings, and the thought of one being treated in such a manner sickened him.

He leaned forward and put his fists under his chin as he looked over at Prowl from their seats in the rec room. "I just want to help this poor kid. Frag it, Prowl, it's so cruel," he explained, clearly upset. "The way he acts he must have been hurt like this for years."

Prowl's optics narrowed. "The thought is disturbing."

"I'm trying to do research and find out if this happens. I didn't even know pedophiles kept some kids," Jazz replied, his voice cracking. "It sounds like slavery to me... But slag, do you think that humans actually keep people around for that kind of slavery?"

Prowl leaned back a bit, crossing his arms. "As an enforcer, I saw cruel things done to sparklings. And that's not even speaking on the slave trade. Of course there were few of them in slavery," Prowl explained. "Since we all know what happened if you hurt a sparkling - especially at that time. But it could happen, if they really were this mentally ill and decided they needed an outlet."

Jazz felt sick at the thought of that. Sex slaves, he would think, would be a barbaric thought, especially when they were children. But at the same time - he had a feeling it was exactly what happened. Among other things, if he really was kept for so long. Whose to say that was the only service he gave for these men? For other men? For women?

After a long moment, he sighed, looking back at him after a moment. "I can't imagine that was the only thing he did either. Humans kept slaves for labor too in history," Jazz informed Prowl. "I doubt that he was just used for pleasure. As sick as it sounds."

"I hate to say you're right. But you likely are," Prowl explained. "I've done my own research, you know."

Jazz nodded, but hated the thought that Prowl agreed with him. He usually liked that, but right now, well, that was a bad thought... "I really wanted to believe the humans were better than this Prowler. But the more I read the more I realize they can be real monsters," he explained. "And now this..."

Prowl shook his head, putting a hand on Jazz's shoulder quietly. It wasn't much, but really, Prowl had some trouble comforting others at times. "I understand... There's a reason why I had some trouble as an enforcer myself," he explained, being honest about it. "Truly heinous crimes are very hard to get out of your mind."

"I don't even know if I'm gonna recharge tonight after seeing what state he's in," Jazz replied, his voice filled with frustration. "How the frag can this creep behind it do it?"

"You don't know that he does."

Jazz huffed slightly, doubting that he didn't. After all, he was able to carry on with this for who knew how long. Standing to his feet slowly, Jazz turned his head toward Prowl. "I really want to go find that cabin. Go find out what's really going on there," he explained. "If there was this one kid, who knows if there are more."

"That would be going against Prime's orders, something I do not recommend," Prowl explained, as his best friend, he'd rather not see Jazz go out of his way to sabotage himself. "Furthermore, you don't know what this might do. You could scare off the human occupants, and then what? We may never find them if he was kept there."

"... I hate when you're right."

Jazz started out of the rec room after that, his frustration mounted. "Where are you going then?" Prowl asked.

"Outside, I may not be able to do that, but I need some fragging air," Jazz replied with a voice that said that he wasn't to be stopped. "I'll be back later."

It would probably take all of his energy not to go looking. But at the very least, outside he could at least take out his frustration with the unfairness of this whole situation.


	4. Roommates

**CHAPTER 4  
Roommates**

Conner wasn't sure how he felt when Jazz finally got him out of the med bay.

It was a little over a few days later when Ratchet let him leave. And Jazz wanted to take him out to see a little more of his new home, in hopes of somewhat calming the teenager. While Conner wasn't totally sure what he thought of Jazz, he did still feel most comfortable around him. So, with some reluctance he agreed to it.

At the moment, Jazz was leading him down the hallway, his smile wide. It was clear that he was hoping to show Conner a good time - but he couldn't help but feel very nervous. "Don't be so scared, li'l man! Anyone gives you a hard time and they have to answer to me," he told him as if sensing his fear. "You're gonna like it now that you can walk around - you know. We have tons of fun around here!"

Conner shifted a little bit. "What do you mean by fun?"

"Oh! Games, movies, sometimes we all just get together and talk," Conner was relieved when there was no mention of the "fun" he was accustomed to adults wanting with him. "I was gonna take you to meet some of my friends... They've been curious to meet you."

When Conner stopped, Jazz wished he hadn't chosen those words. Perhaps it sounded like what the people who kept him would say. Given he was violated multiple times - he wouldn't doubt it. "Don't worry, kiddo. I wouldn't mean it in a mean way. They just knew that we found a hurt human in the forest," the boy stared at him skeptically. "I think a lot of 'em just want to see that you're OK really. The first few days we didn't even know if you'd make it."

"Why did you care?"

Jazz tilted his head, surprised he still had to ask. "Because you're a little kid. Seeing someone like that cut down before they even had a chance to live is disturbing and sad," there was a silence after that. "We've seen a lot of that on our homeworld as-is."

"What do you mean?"

Jazz didn't think that it was a good idea to talk about that. This boy had enough to worry about without thinking about some violent war that had been happening on another planet being added to it. "It's nothing, a long story, y'know," he explained. "You got enough to worry about without dealing with our issues too."

Conner put his hands in his pockets, looking up at him. "Sounds like the feeling is mutual."

"The difference being I ain't a thirteen year old victim of sexual assault," Jazz explained. "Trust me, at my age I can take it."

Conner was silent, not used to anyone caring. But then again - considering whom he'd been "raised by" for lack of a better term, it wasn't too hard to believe. They stopped in front of the rec room, and taking a moment, Jazz lead the boy into the room. At once, Conner grew nervous as he looked around. There was of course, Prowl, as Jazz had been itching to introduce the kid to his best friend.

The only other mech in the room was Hound, who Jazz also trusted around the kid. Prowl looked over at the human, looking as friendly as he could. "Well then, this must be Conner," he noted, reminding himself to keep calm, and act as nice as possible. "Hello, young one, my name is Prowl... You have no need to be afraid of me. Jazz thought it would be best for you to get acquainted with me first because I was a cop before I joined the Autobots."

"You were a cop!?" Conner asked.

"Well, what humans would consider one. For many years, yes," Prowl chuckled a bit, then looked down at him. "As such, I wish you to know that while I don't expect you to open up to me. If any mech were to harm you in whatever manner. You can report it to me at once, and it will be handled."

Jazz could see that Conner seemed to relax a bit at that. Sure, he probably wasn't, as Prowl said, ready to open up. But the fact a former cop was there definitely help to make Conner feel like he could spend some time in the rec room and not be scared. "So what do ye think, kiddo? Some cartoons? We can put them on our vid screen," he noted Hound for the first time. "Hey, Hound, you don't mind do you? Were you planning to watch TV?"

Hound turned, and gave a small smile. Of course, Jazz didn't expect him to say anything against it. "Of course not! I'm sure the kid would like something fun. Now that he's out of the med bay," he then added, rather warmly. "Hi there, Conner. My name's Hound. I won't stay around long to give you time - but I figure I should at least introduce myself."

Again, Conner felt his stomach turning - but the way the green mech smiled was so warm. And none of them had made a single move to hurt or touch him. Slowly, he was starting to understand they really were just taking him to watch cartoons, to relax. "H-Hi," Conner waved nervously. "I uh- green's my favorite color."

Conner cringed at himself - but he really had no idea how to make actual conversation. Most people he "talked" to silenced him. And now what? If these mechs were as nice as Jazz presented himself as how could he ever hope to keep up talking? "Really? I'm quite fond of it myself too!" Hound replied jovially. "Had this paint job since I was a youngling."

"It's really cool." Conner managed his voice cracking.

Hound realized that Conner was a little nervous. So instead of staying too long, he gave a small smile. "Well, I need to go. I think I'm needed elsewhere. It was nice to meet you Conner," he waved a little. "I'm sure we'll have time to talk later."

As Hound left, Conner stared around quietly. He had gone without any actions of ill will, just as all the Autobots thus far had. "So, what do you think shorty? Scooby-Doo?" Jazz asked as he turned to look at the TV. "I hear that's a lot of fun!"

Conner shifted a little, staring over at the TV as well. He could see the funny dog that he'd heard about as well. After a sigh, he managed to make his way over. "OK, I guess so." Conner replied. "What's it about?"

"...What's it about?" Jazz asked, surprised. "Kid you have a lot to catch up on!"

Hopefully this would go well.

* * *

Jazz didn't know how well the second half of the day would go.

They had gotten Conner to relax, and watch the television for some time. But when it was time to go to bed... Well, Jazz knew that would be harder. He couldn't stay in the med bay forever, Ratchet needed the space. So while they went over what exactly they were going to do, Optimus had decided they needed a guardian for him. Jazz, of course, had lept at the chance without really thinking it through.

He knew that the boy had probably slept in the quarters of men before - but never like this.

That was made very clear when Jazz had led him back to his quarters. "No, I'm not sleeping alone with you!" Conner immediately shouted as they stood outside the door. "No, no, no... I trusted you, I trusted you!"

Jazz threw his hands up defensively immediately. Trying to think of the best way to put his situation at the present. "Whoa, whoa! Younglin' calm down," he attempted as gently as he could. "It's not like that. But while we have you here, you do need a guardian. And we don't exactly have rooms set up for humans... We already had to give you a berth in there for a bed."

Conner took another two steps back. "You'll touch me... You'll touch me, and use me like everyone else."

Bellow his visor, the mech could feel his optics furrow. Did this boy really think that he, the mech who had been so kind to him, was going to use him for pleasure? His frustration built up at the thought - wondering how he could get Conner to trust him. But at the same time, Jazz knew that was a tough one. "Conner, I would never do that," he told him, keeping his voice calm. "Even if I was going to, Prowl's room's next door. He'd hear it and storm my room."

Conner hugged himself, his body shaking. "But you'll see me get ready for bed. Even if you don't want to you'll watch," he explained. "Lots of guys do."

Jazz tried to keep himself calm, anger building though not at Conner. Just how many tortures had been placed on this little boy in his short life? He knew that Conner wasn't his kid, but by this point, he may as well have been given how angry each new element made him. "You can go get in the pajamas we have for you alone," Jazz replied. "I'll wait out here until you say I can come in."

Conner looked at him quietly. "You won't even sneak a peek?"

"I don't _want_ to sneak a peek," Jazz reiterated. "Conner, I promise you kid. You can trust me, I'm your protector while you're here. Not your captor."

"Swear on your life."

Jazz looked thoughtfully over at the boy - knowing that probably meant a lot. After a long intake of breath, the mech crouched low, and looked him in the eyes best he could with a visor. "I promise you, on my life Conner. As long as you are living with me, nothing will happen to you," he explained. "If you even so much as feel a little scared, you can come to me at night. I'll protect you, you have my promise."

Conner was silent a moment. "But if I'm living you, that means during the day too."

Again, the special ops bot rubbed his neck, the boy was so specific. "Well, yeah, that makes me your guardian right now. So I'm in charge of you, night and day, or so Prime says," he explained his voice tender. "And if you have trouble during the day too you can come to me. I'll always be around, OK?"

"What if I don't feel safe around you?"

"That won't happen, because I'm a good mech," Jazz explained. "You don't have to totally trust me. Just trust that I have good intentions, ya dig?"

There was a stark silence as Conner went over this all in his mind. It was clear the boy was processing things as he stared at the door again. Did he really trust this mech enough to do that? He'd barely been able to sleep alone in the med bay, since that had been scary... And the thought of sleeping near someone was better, but just as scary given it was a grown mech.

Yet, if he said no, turned tail, or ran away that would end badly too... He could end up with an actually bad mech, get the Autobots upset with him, or recaptured by the child slave ring. There was a quiet tremble as he considered that last thought. They'd probably move him at once, somewhere he was sure not to be found a second time.

"OK."

Jazz paused a moment. "So you're gonna stay here then?"

Conner nodded his head slowly, trying to keep himself calm. "As long as I can change alone. I don't... I just can't..."

"That's OK, Conner," Jazz replied. "I'll respect your boundaries. Go inside and get ready for bed, li'l buddy, I'll stand guard."

Conner nodded his head slowly, and licked the corner of his lip. "Promise?"

"Cross my spark and hope to offline."

And then, after their tense stand-off, Conner was through the door. Jazz sighed quietly, trying to relax himself. He didn't know what he could expect from this, good or bad. And he definitely knew he had to try not to get TOO attached, considering eventually, this boy would go back to his kind. But he could already feel this was going to be a tough time for them both. As he transitioned to having a kid around his quarters that he had to protect, and Conner adjusted to being around an adult who wouldn't hurt him.

His helm pounded as he quietly hoped if nothing - their time together would help Conner trust people like him a little more. But if not? Well, at least he could say he had tried. And either way, having a roommate for a change might not be so bad at all.

* * *

A/N: Welp, now that Conner is out of the med bay the story can really begin! :)


	5. The Devil

A/N: Warning, the second part of this chapter is especially dark. As we get a face to the human villain of this story - so you can imagine what it involves.

* * *

 **CHAPTER 5  
The Devil**

"Jazz, I'm hungry."

Jazz looked over at Conner quietly as he did some work on his data pad. Conner had been living with him for two days now, and had slowly learned to become dependent on Jazz in the right ways. Finding his voice to speak up when he needed something; though they were still working on the confidence to do so with others. It seemed that a part of Conner, however small, had learned to slowly put at least part of his trust in the mech.

For moments like these, when they were in their quarters, he kept snacks for Conner at human level. It was supposed to be so Conner could get food as he pleased - but Jazz had still found that Conner asked permission to eat. It was rather sad, given how little Conner usually ate, but he also understood that food was probably not openly available to kids like him.

"Li'l man, you know you don't need to ask permission," Jazz repeated to him for the third time that day, nodding toward where the food was stored. "Make yourself a sandwich or something. Unless you're hungry for dinner already."

Conner of course jumped off his berth as soon as Jazz said it was OK for him to eat. It always worked like that - which made Jazz wonder how long Conner would go hungry in the day before actually asking Jazz for food. "Conner, can I ask you a question?" the boy turned to his guardian, his eyes uncertain but finally nodded. "Do you go hungry a lot? I mean... I mean it when you say you don't have to as permission."

The thirteen year old silently looked down. "I um... I just," he paused a little. "I may need the food later."

"We have plenty," Jazz replied, his voice tense. "What do you mean?"

"What if you decide I shouldn't eat today?"

Jazz looked thoughtfully at his charge quietly. Was this boy serious? What right did he have to stop the child from eating? What kind of monsters was this boy accustomed... Oh yeah, he reminded himself. This boy had been a slave for the last several years.

He strode over to the boy quietly, and looked down at him. Reaching his finger forward, he gently pushed his blond bangs away from his face. "Conner, you will never go hungry, OK? Eat as much as you want," Jazz explained. "Listen, why don't we even move it closer to your berth? That way if you're hungry at night you can get something to eat easier."

Seated on his berth with a sandwich, Conner shook his head. "I don't get hungry when I'm sleeping..."

Jazz chuckled a bit, then pointed at him. "What? Not even for a midnight snack? I mean, I sometimes get that," he explained, trying to encourage him. "When I was your age I guzzled down seven energon cubes a night. You're a growing kid, trust me, I get it."

"I haven't really grown at all."

Jazz frowned, then added honestly. "That's because you're malnourished. You need to eat some vegetables speaking of, what do you want? I got carrots and celery for you," Jazz explained, remembering Ratchet's instructions. "It'll help you build your strength. Oh! And milk. That's in the mini fridge there too."

Conner felt himself getting a little nervous, but still tried to smile. He knew what Jazz was trying to do, and it meant a lot, and yet... "I've had plenty of veggies and milk, Jazz. I'm OK. I had it the last two meals too, remember?" Jazz rubbed the back of his neck, chuckling to himself nervously. "You really... Why do you care so much?"

The saboteur looked at his charge quietly. "I don't know... I mean, until we find your folks, I'm kinda the closest thing you have. And I ain't used to that, y'dig?" Jazz explained honestly. "I want to make sure you're taken care of since you haven't been in a long time... And that means making sure I don't slack."

Conner couldn't believe it, but he felt touched.

The way that Jazz said it was so sincere, with a gentle tone. A way which he only knew from kinder people he had come across a time or two. And the fact he was taking things so seriously... It meant, or at least Conner hoped it meant, that Jazz meant what he said about caring. "I uh... Didn't realize you cared so much," Conner noted. "Jazz, did you... I mean... Do you?"

Jazz looked at Conner quietly, knowing what his question would be. "Nah, Conner, I'm a lucky mech. I grew up in a family that loved me," he explained. "But I was also adopted. They found me when I was a few "months" old abandoned and barely alive in a place called Kaon."

Conner was immediately stunned that Jazz shared such a deep sentiment. Jazz was silent for a long moment before continuing the story. "I may have been adopted into a great family. But seeing you there in the forest that day broke my spark. Because I feel like it was how someone found me only a few months after I was created," he explained. "I was so weak I could barely take in any of the energon they tried to give me. Almost died, or so my carrier - er, mother, says."

"She saw you back then?" Conner asked.

"She was one of the nurses who took care of me," Jazz explained, his voice sorrowful. "She said part of the reason she and my sire - uh, again, father, took me was because of how big an impact I made. The fact that I was a survivor of whatever I went through the first few months of my life."

Conner was silent. "They think your parents did those things to you on purpose?"

Jazz was silent, and then gave a slow, but sure nod. He put his hands on his hips slowly. "I know they did. I found 'em vorns later. They were some of the elite in Kaon - nothing to brag about, really. Considering they were vicious monsters and cowards," he explained. "It didn't take me long after meeting them to figure out that they did those things to me because they didn't care."

"But you don't remember any of it?"

"Little bits in my photographic memory. All us Autobots have one," Jazz replied honestly. "I try my best to put them out of my processor though. Tryin' to think positive."

For once, Conner felt as though maybe a part of Jazz, however small, may understand him. Sure he had not been abducted, or sold by his family, depending on which it was. But Jazz had spent a part of his life abused, neglected, and unloved - and then been left to die. It was a horrible thought. "It put its scars on me too, though mine is physical," Jazz replied. "The lack of energon at the time left me blind."

"Blind?" Conner asked. "But you can see."

Jazz pointed at his visor. "Yeah, now I can with this visor. It connects to my processor and allows me to see. But growing up? We weren't very rich so I was completely blind until I was the human equivalent of seventeen," he explained. "My sire and carrier saved up every credit they had to get this for me. It was experimental when it came out too. And even then when it malfunctions, I have to sometimes work blindly."

"Wow," Conner replied. "I never woulda thought."

The saboteur smiled gently. "See this is why I said you can trust me. We may have been hurt differently, li'l guy. But we've both been hurt in life," he explained, making it very clear what he was saying. "And just like someone made sure I thrived... I wanna do my part to do the same for you."

Conner looked down slowly, taking that all in. A lot of Jazz's actions made sense now, he guessed. Especially why he had taken so quickly to trying to help some half-dead kid in the forest he didn't even know. "Do you think I'll ever be OK...?" he asked. "Like you seem to be?"

Jazz gave a sad smile at that question, crouching low to look at him again. "As long as you have people that care about and love ya, li'l guy, you'll be just fine," he explained, his voice certain. "Which is why you should probably tell us your last name soon... So we can find the people that do love you."

Conner was silent - given he still wasn't sure if he even had anyone like that at this point. It disappointed Jazz a bit, given the spark-to-heart they'd just had. But he also understood that there were only so many baby steps one could take in a day. "That's alright, you don't have to tell me anything," Jazz explained. "Just... Y'know, when yer ready to go back to your parents?"

"And what if I don't want to?"

"Want to what?" Jazz asked.

"Go back."

Those words hung over Jazz's head quietly. He tilted his head to one side, and stared quizzically at the teenager. "Why... Why wouldn't you want to go back to your family?"

Conner immediately pulled away from the question. "Just asking," and then added. "I guess I'll have carrots, if that's OK."

Jazz waited for a minute, wondering if the child would elaborate further. But as he went into the mini fridge to grab the carrots, he quietly realized that was not happening. And as he did, his tanks churned with a new, disturbing thought...

Did this boy have reason to fear going back to his parents?

* * *

"So, you're telling me you let a perfectly healthy, pristine, thirteen year old comodity escape?"

The older, stout man stared around the cabin quietly, taking a drag of his cigarette. Monty Burns was not usually a patient man, but today he was fuming. Both because the three pedophiles in front of him were so stupid, and because of the situation that made them such. He flicked his cigarette slightly as his dark blue eyes bore into their souls.

The weazel, Corderoy spoke up first. "It was just one of them! We got the other two for you, didn't we?" he gestured to the ten year old girl, and seven year old boy to his right. "That one's getting old anyway. 'Bout time you got rid of him?"

Monty scoffed, his grimy face getting close to the men. "Except your rental is done! I had a buyer for the boy now, a full-time buyer in Germany," he slapped the man violently, anger building. "He was supposed to be on a plane tonight bound for his home tonight. A birthday gift for himself. And now I need to pull from others in my prized stock."

Corderoy's friend, Mark, spoke up next. "Yeah, well, he's probably dead now. Some wolf will catch 'em-."

"And if he is, somebody will find the body. And with a body comes questions," Monty replied with a sharp fit of anger. "And what's more, Conner's parents got paid good money for their handsome little man. If he is alive and found, they won't like me coming to collect what they owe me if they want him back."

Mark snorted, leaning back. "Why would they want him back if they sold him in the first place?"

"Gotta stick to the kidnapping story, obviously," Corderoy noted. "Not so much wanting him back as needing him home to look good."

Monty nodded in agreement, taking a deep breath. It was a really bad situation all around, especially since this so rarely happened. But for every problem, he knew there was a solution, and there were ways to retrieve the child. "That's why we need to make sure we find the property, alive or dead," he then added. "If you find him alive, I'll allow Marcus three more weeks with him - free of charge. Gives me enough time to make a deal with the German buyer to still purchase Conner."

Marcus, the man who Conner had earlier stabbed in the leg, sat hunched over on the couch. "If I get three weeks alone with that brat, all I'm gonna do is kill him," he snarled. "Little bitch is probably gonna make me limp forever. At least give me someone less violent."

Monty looked thoughtfully, humming a little. "Very well, I'm sure I can find a renter for Conner. If you find him and bring him back - in one piece, I'll give you... Oh, shall we say the fourteen year old from Africa?" Marcus' eyes lit up at that thought. "Ah yes, I know you have a thing for the accents."

"Consider him already caught," Marcus replied. "Can I at least whip him?"

Monty shook his head slowly. "I am Conner's handler-"

"Pimp, more like it." Corderoy snorted.

"Call me what you want. But for the moment I _own_ Conner Banning. And when I get my hands on him, he'll wish he were being whipped," Monty replied, shifting on his feet. "Now, I suggest you get to work looking. I'm selling him for four hundred thousand if all goes well. And I want that payday."

"Yes, sir."

Monty nodded at the two associates with him as they began to lead away the other two children. Monty sighed quietly, it really was such a mess. And these men were lucky he was feeling generous that day - in earlier days he'd have shot them all dead and buried them in a mass grave.

He finally turned to his assistant. "Call the Bannings and inform them of their sons' miraculous escape," he stated cooly. "If he calls or tries to contact them. They are to report it at once unless they wish to pay up the ten thousand I paid for the boy."

"You only paid four thousand."

"Interest, especially for giving me someone who ended up being a pain," Monty replied with a dark chuckle, brushing back his hair slightly. "If I can't sell him as a plaything for the German boy. I may sell him to the mine in Columbia. They always need little ones to get in the small spaces. Call up Mandu, and see if he may also have use for him. My offer is three hundred thousand."

"On it."

Marcus, who had been listening, snorted. "Ain't just a pimp then, eh?" Monty turned his head toward the man slowly. "You sell 'em to anyone with a wallet."

"Of course I do, family men with kiddie issues aren't the only ones that pay handsomely," Monty again laughed, amused he'd think in such a manner. "Conner is a beautiful one though, so a lot of you request him."

"Beautiful, eh? You ever...?"

Monty scoffed slightly, as if that was a dumb question. "He's my property," he then added. "But I have three others just like him back at my place."

"Lucky bastard."

Monty shook his head, and simply left at that. Having had enough of the drivel, and even more of Marcus, the moron who had let the boy get away. The one that had let the merchandise get away. If he really thought that he'd give him another of his stock after that? Well, what a joke. He'd let him find and fix his mistake, and then he'd find him a nice unmarked grave to take a dirt nap in.

Either way, he would be sure that this was dealt with.

* * *

A/N: Woo, that was a tough chapter to write. Even if it was necessary! Hopefully this came out well.


	6. Baby Steps

A/N: Wow, I'm already at 34 reviews? You guys are too awesome! Thanks to everyone following this! Your reviews are really helping and it means even more knowing how hard I'm working to do this right.

* * *

 **CHAPTER 6  
Baby Steps**

"Hey there Conner, how's it goin'?"

The boy jumped out of his skin at the sound of the mech from a day ago, Hound's voice. He had been spending the hour or so Jazz was on patrol exploring the Ark as quietly as he could. After all, he was on an alien spaceship filled with adults - and given he knew none of them well yet he didn't want to anger them. So he hadn't entirely expected anyone to show up in the hallway.

But again, here was this Hound guy. Standing there with a cheery and friendly smile as he approached with a black colored mech who looked curiously at Conner as well. "Oh! So this is the kid that we've had on base the last month?" the mech asked, putting his hands on his hips with a smile of his own. "Hey there kid, I'm Trailbreaker!"

As he took a step forward though, Conner took a step back. A move which seemingly perplexed Trailbreaker until Hound reminded him with a hushed tone. "This is the kid they think was some sort of human's slave, remember?" trying to be discreet about it. "Need to keep calmer around this kid and all - they think someone's been interfacing with him."

Trailbreaker's face contorted - trying to understand like most of the other Autobots were. But quickly, he realized that was a conversation best had away from the subject in question. "Oh, uh, sorry kiddo, I didn't mean to startle you, sometimes I forget how big I can be to kids," Trailbreaker offered kindly, then added. "You know though, being alone can't be much fun. Isn't Jazz taking care of you?"

"He's on patrol," Conner managed, then with a bit of fear added. "I'm OK, really."

Yet Hound could see what Trailbreaker was trying to do. Conner hadn't really come to hang out with anyone other than Jazz - which couldn't be healthy. This boy needed to socialize if they had any hope of getting this kid to open up as they were trying to. "Nah, 'Breakers right! He and I were just thinking about headin' out for a little drive down to the nearby city."

Conner shook his head, confused. "Aren't I not supposed to be out? Jazz said Optimus Prime or someone told him he couldn't until they figured stuff out," the two mechs looked at each other briefly, not having thought of that. "T-Thanks anyway though!"

"Whoa - hold up, that's OK we don't have to go into the city. There's plenty to do near the Ark!" Trailbreaker replied, looking thoughtful. "Heck, we can even just go for a drive."

Conner shifted uncomfortably, unsure of how to respond. He didn't know these mechs - but Hound had been so friendly and respectful of his space the day before. A fact that he made even more clear as he spoke up again. "You don't HAVE to come, Conner. I just figured you're pretty bored crammed up in here all day,"Hound explained. "But we'll leave you alone if you don't want to."

Conner weighed his options quietly before finally giving a response. "O-OK. As long as I don't get any idea you guys are pulling anything," he finally answered, surprising both of the mechs. "And you don't take me back to that cabin."

Both mechs had no idea what that meant. But inferring that it had something to do with the boy's dark past, Trailbreaker added. "Don't worry kid, I won't try anything. And if Hound does I'll make him eat his own exhaust!" he added, eliciting a small chuckle from Conner in how he voiced that. "Come on, Hound. If we're going to do this we better go now. Gotta have him back before Jazz gets back - y'know he'd probably have a "cow" as the humans say."

"He'd have the whole barn," Hound snorted. "The way he talks about him."

"Jazz talks about me?"

Hound smirked. "When I'm around him yeah," he added. "Is it that surprising?"

Conner wasn't sure how to respond. Really, it could go either way depending on how he talked about him. Either way though, as the mechs waited for him, he slowly followed them out of the Ark, hoping silently that these seemingly kind mechs could be trusted. He'd gone with strange men before - and as such, doing this was a bit of a test to see if the Autobots really were what they presented themselves as.

If they failed - he needed to find a route of escape.

* * *

Conner was surprised when they didn't fail.

He'd ridden with Hound because he was almost entirely sure that the mech was as friendly as he appeared. And he, nor Trailbreaker let him down as far as that was concerned. They took the time to introduce him to the area around his new temporary home - every inch of Mt. Saint Hillary, to be exact. On top of being nice to get a good look, it also gave Conner a good idea of how far he was from the cabin.

He could see just how far the forest around the dormant volcano reached. And to be honest, he could also tell that they would never find him up here - not without a lot of help. A thought which made him feel more relaxed than ever as they sat near the highest ridge to take a look at the "most beautiful view on Earth" in Hound's expert opinion.

Conner swung his legs slightly along the edge. Though he knew the mech's were taking great care, and watching to make sure he didn't fall off. None-the-less it provided him with a beautiful view of the slowly setting sun. "Wow, who knew it was all this beautiful," Conner murmured. "I've lived here for three months and I never even had any idea..."

Trailbreaker looked at him curiously. "Wait, you've been here for three months? I didn't even realize there were any humans living here. I mean, a few lodges in the forest but still," he noted, though Hound almost wanted to cut him off. "But given what you just said, I guess they weren't-."

"They didn't live there, they rented it, I think," Conner replied as he stood to his feet slowly. "They hid it pretty well too... Since they didn't want to be found."

Hound crossed his arms, and huffed a bit. Imagine that, he figured, some freaks of nature didn't want anyone finding out they liked little kids. "Still, I can't imagine they ever let you out. You should have Jazz, or one of us take you into the forest sometime," he explained. "It's really beautiful, and there's a huge lake."

Conner bit his lip. "I don't think that's a good idea."

Trailbreaker however, was quick to speak up. "Why? 'Fraid they'll get their hands on you again? Because you're forgetting you've got all of us backing you up now," Conner's eyes turned to look at the black mech in surprise. "People like them might be scary. But I'm pretty sure none of them are as intimidating as a two story mech."

For the second time that day, Conner found himself chuckling. Wait, he was chuckling? Again? Since when did anyone make him laugh? "I uh... I just didn't think you guys would do that sorta thing," he explained, gaining his seriousness again. "Couldn't you get in trouble?"

"Who cares about human laws? They're creeps picking on little kids," Trailbreaker replied. "I'd love to see them try that slag in front of someone like Optimus."

Conner cocked an eyebrow, having heard that name several times. He'd sort of gotten a tiny gist of who he was, but he wasn't sure none-the-less. "Who is Optimus Prime anyway? Is he like... Your leader?" He finally managed to ask.

Hound looked surprised by the question. "Oh wow, Prime hasn't introduced himself yet? Eh, I guess that makes sense. He's kind of the biggest of us next to Skyfire, probably doesn't want to scare you," Hound replied honestly, after all - who knew how he would react. "Yeah, Optimus is our leader. I'm sure you'll meet him one of these days - don't worry though, he's big with kids. You're probably in no safer hands than around him."

Of course, holding up a finger, Trailbreaker was quick to cut in. "One step at a time, though. I mean, kid's just started to talk to us without shaking."

Conner paused a moment, realizing he was right. These were the first two mechs he'd relaxed around since he'd moved in with Jazz. And while he felt similarly about him - that hadn't been hard. What surprised him was that he no longer felt scared around these two either. Mostly because it was hard to when they both were so respectful of his boundaries.

With a voice filled with honesty, he then added. "Yeah, the only one that scares me is Ratchet," he admitted. "That guy is kinda crazy."

Trailbreaker slapped his knee, letting out a hearty laugh. "Ain't that the truth! Kid, you have no idea. He has the berth side manner of a Decepticon sometimes," he joked, shaking his head. "Really, he's harmless though. Unless you're an adult - then he's totally OK with throwing wrenches."

If he hadn't already learned to NOT make Ratchet mad - he would have known now.

He put his hands in his jacket pockets as he sighed quietly. "I mean - no one's been mean, I guess. I just... I don't know," Conner admitted. "Is everyone as friendly as you guys and Jazz?"

There was a long silence - as the two mechs started to contemplate their answers. "Well, some of us are grumpier than others. But we're good people, Conner, I promise you that," Hound replied, with a smile, he crouched down to the boy. "See how much fun this was? You just gotta try to put a little trust in us... Not a lot, but enough that we can show you that."

Conner was silent for a long moment - then spoke up again. "... I'll think about it."

"That's OK," Trailbreaker replied. "Again, baby steps."

As the last of the sun started to disappear on the horizon, Hound stretched. "Until then, I think it's time we head back to the Ark. Jazz is back by now and probably worried," he transformed down into his jeep form opening his passenger door to let Conner in. "C'mon kiddo."

To Conner's own surprise, he didn't hesitate getting in.

* * *

Jazz tried to process what the duo had told him.

Conner had gone with them? He'd actually managed to place his faith in them? It was almost too good to be true in some ways. Yet when they returned with him, ready for dinner, Conner hadn't denied it. He thought this over as he turned to look at the boy's berth, where he was sound asleep.

Was he finally getting through to him? Jazz wasn't entirely sure. And to be frank, he didn't want to get ahead of himself. This child still had so much to get through. And even if he had made friends with Hound and Trailbreaker, that was only a start. He would start to celebrate, and get excited when Conner had opened up to more than just the three of them.

Standing to his feet, the notion he'd told him the day before still haunted him.

If he did open up - especially to all of them, they'd have to question him more. They'd need to find a last name, find his parents, find the people who did this. And then what? Would his parents be something that Conner really had to fear? Or would it all be for naught?

Jazz wanted badly for the boy to come forward and open up. But at the same time - he didn't want to see the boy more hurt than he already was. No, he wanted more time to get his trust to make sure that this boy could tell him what he needed to know before then... Or at the very least, confide in someone why he was afraid of going back to his parents.

And thankfully, he knew, the more people he trusted - the more of a chance there'd be he would.

* * *

A/N: Woo, finally got some time with Conner and other 'Bots! Hopefully it was worth the wait!


	7. Dark Suspicions

**CHAPTER 7  
Dark Suspicions**

"Jazz, can I ask you a question?"

It was the first time Conner had initiated a conversation, and as such, Jazz was surprised. The voice had come from down the hallway, as Conner jogged up to catch up with him. The mech only smiled though, and nodded. "Sure thing, li'l guy," he replied, tilting his head. "What is it?"

Conner looked at him for a long moment after he'd caught up. Jazz waited quietly for whatever question he was going to ask. He wondered if it would be important? A child-like question? What? "Well, I uh... I'm not sure how to ask this," he explained - trying to find a way to say what he wanted to. "Do you like me?"

Jazz looked confused at the question. Did he like him? For a moment he thought he might mean in THAT way. But upon further inspection, he realized otherwise. "Like, do I like spending time with you? Of course I do! You're a cool kid," he offered, though he did have to admit he didn't know all that much about him, but still knew he had to build his self-esteem. "What's got you asking that?"

There was silence after that, and for a moment, he wondered if Conner would reply. "I just... I don't know. I don't want to be a burden," Conner admitted. "I know you want to help me... But you don't have to. And you really can't, y'know?"

Jazz frowned slowly, taking that in. "Conner, I'm taking care of you because I wanted to. You don't have to worry about that. And you sure as pit aren't a burden," Conner was silent in response. "What gave you the idea you'd be a burden to someone taking care of you?"

There was silence - but Jazz was already putting two and two together. Had he heard those words from his parents? No. He didn't want to believe that. He wanted to believe that somewhere out there - this boy had parents waiting for him. And yet... He was scared to go back to them in a way. And now... A burden? Sure, he could have heard that from the people who kept him. But he had gathered they'd hardly taken care of him to make him a "burden" to any of them.

So that left him wondering...

"It's nothing. Just stuff I've heard people say."

"What kind of people? The pedophiles and slavers that have kept you?" Jazz asked.

"Some of them, yeah."

"Only them?" Jazz further inquired. "Because I don't think you'd be asking me specifically if it was just them. I take good care of you don't I?"

Conner looked nervous, his mind seemingly swirling in confusion. He shifted on his feet a bit. "Yeah... You're really nice. And you don't try to hurt me," he admitted, much to Jazz's relief - and uncertainty. "I just... You probably have more important things to deal with. It's nothing. I just felt bad."

Jazz wanted to ask Conner if his parents had said it. But at the same time, he also knew that was bad idea. It could scare the boy who was already starting to feel comfortable around him. "OK, I understand. You haven't been around people that care in a long time," he explained trying to keep calm. "Listen... I uh..."

It was a long time before Jazz could say what he wanted to say. His mind having to come to the conclusion it would be OK if he approached the subject the way he planned to. "Speaking of caregivers. I uh... We've been meaning to ask if you remember anything about your parents," you could cut the tension in the air with a knife. "I uh... Figure you were young when taken. But is there anything we might need to know? I mean."

His charge was silent as a church mouse. Looking unsure of how to answer that question just as much as Jazz had been unsure of how to ask it. They stopped in the middle of the hallway, and Conner leaned back a bit, his eyes darting down at the ground. "A little bit... I remember they were kinda rich or something, I think," he explained. "I remember we had a huge house, and dad drove a really nice car."

The red flags were coming already. He didn't think it seemed logical for a ring of child slavers to go after the kid of some rich people. They'd be affluent people and if anything - someone would want Conner and demand ransom at the same time he'd figure. Something was feeling increasingly wrong about this situation and he had a sinking feeling in his spark.

What if his parents had something to do with Conner disappearing?

Jazz gained his composure, and rather than ask about this, he nodded. "Well then, sounds like you could be going back to a pretty cool life, eh?" he asked, trying to keep himself calm. "Hey, listen, I gotta go talk to Optimus really quick. What do you say you go to the rec room and find something to watch on TV? I'll join you after."

Conner smiled at the change in subject. Thankful, Jazz watched as he nodded his head. "OK, I'll be there."

As the boy jogged off, clearly relieved to be off the subject, Jazz felt his tanks churning in a familiar way.

* * *

"What are you saying, Jazz?"

"I'm saying that something about Conner's situation doesn't add up."

Optimus leaned forward as Jazz stood in his office. He had called Prowl over com a little after he'd talked to Conner, believing that the three of them had to talk about this. Because the new information was greatly unsettling him. "Conner says his parents were probably rich, well off people. Which probably means they lived in a nice area, a nice home," Jazz replied. "I've done my research on kidnapping. I don't think I've ever heard of a RICH kid kidnapped to be a slave. That sounds like someone people kidnap looking for money, a ransom."

Prowl's doorwings twitched a little as he looked at Jazz. "They might not have known where Conner came from..."

"He offered Ratchet little information in the med bay when he first came here," Optimus admitted. "But he did say that he was specifically stolen from his home."

Jazz shuddered at that. Conner had once offered him something similar in the time since they'd started to form a friendship. Which was part of the reason it didn't sit right with him. "He's right, Conner said the same thing to me. Which makes me think... I mean I fragging hate to say this," he looked over at Optimus. "But he was saying he may not want to go back... A week or so ago. And now I'm wondering if he wasn't kidnapped at all."

It didn't take long for either one to figure out what Jazz was getting at. They had this sort of thing on Cybertron during the war - when things got desperate. Sure, no one gave their sparklings over to mechs like this. But rather, there were cases of people that had sold their younglings simply for the scraps of credits to get by. It had been truly disturbing. And this, this was worse...

Because if these people were rich, they hadn't even sold Conner out of some sort of desperation. In fact, Jazz couldn't wrap his mind around why someone like them would ever do that... "You think that his parents might have willingly sold him to a pedophile ring... Slave ring... Whatever this is?" Prowl asked, his next words being full of conviction. "Think carefully, Jazz. That is quite the thing to accuse someone of."

The special ops mech looked at Prowl firmly. "Something is not right here, Prowler. You know it, I know it. And until something he says or does tells me otherwise, I ain't taking chances," Jazz explained. "I'm Conner's guardian. And it's my job to keep him safe. Which means until I know where he's going is safe, I say we ain't gonna hand him over to any human."

This time, Optimus was the one to speak up. "I agree with you Jazz, which is why I am glad you brought this to my attention. Prowl and I have been discussing on when it would be best to bring him to authorities," Optimus explained. "As it did not seem he would open up to us. We had hoped, perhaps, that he may tell them his last name. That they may be able to find his home."

Jazz shook his head. "Yeah, but none of that matters if they just turn around and give him back," he explained, his voice dark. "I ain't gonna give him over to those people until I know they weren't involve, Prime. That ain't even me talking as a guardian. That's me talking as someone with a fragging _spark_."

"I whole-heartedly agree," Optimus responded. "Given this new information. It is best we do keep him for as long as it takes for him to give answers to that."

"How do we know that won't be years?" Prowl asked. "I agree we cannot give him over knowing what we do now. But we must also look at this from human perspectives."

Jazz shook his head. "And any human would see where we're coming from. Think of it Prowler. We could hand him over, he could go back to those people. And the next day he could be gone," Prowl hated it when Jazz was right sometimes. "Screw the human laws. This is a little boy's life we're talking about - and he's lost enough of it."

Prowl sighed, his doorwings bristling a little. Jazz knew that he was frustrated and torn between his instincts as a cop, and his instincts as a sentient, kind creature. But he also knew what would win out... "Very well, then he stays until we can analyze his situation thoroughly," Prowl turned his head. "Are we in agreement there?"

Optimus had a look that said he was deep in thought. No doubt weighing every option carefully as he often did. Even so, such thoughts took all of five minutes. "I am in agreement. Jazz, are you sure you can handle having him for as long as it takes to asses the situation?" Optimus asked. "Prowl is right, it may be some time..."

Jazz shrugged his shoulders in response. "What better have I got to do in-between crushing 'Cons. I like Conner, he's good company," he explained. "And he's starting to trust me. So I'm not about to up and take that away from him."

The Autobot leader nodded, satisfied with Jazz's answer. After all, he was not a mech that was known for lying. And frankly, he also knew that Jazz was becoming increasingly emotionally invested with this boy and that also added weight to it. "Very well, then that is settled. Conner will remain here until we have made a full assessment on his parents and their involvement," he then added. "I simply hope we are wrong - I'd hate to think someone's creators would do something so vile."

Prowl replied with the dark answer. "I didn't want to believe this pedophile thing could happen on Earth either. But child-selling happened on Cybertron. So I regret to say that I am not as shocked as I would like to be," he admitted. "And if these people are rich and sold Conner. They are most definitely a special kind of evil."

"Anyone who'd do that to their kid is." Jazz reminded him.

And he swore, if these parents were indeed that special kind of evil. Well, he swore with every fiber of his being that they would not be allowed to take this boy's life away from him again.

* * *

"So I'm going to stay here a while then?"

"Looks like it, li'l guy."

Conner stared at Jazz silently as they sat on the couch in the rec room. He looked unsure of what to say for a long moment, not sure whether to get upset, or be relieved. It was pretty clear that Conner wasn't sure what he wanted - but after a few moments, he replied. "Can I ask why? I thought you guys would bring me to the cops pretty fast."

Jazz thought quickly this time, knowing he would need a reason that would not give things away. "Well, frankly, shorty. We think you're safer here for the moment," he explained. "I can't really tell you why. But I want you to know, nothing's gonna change because of that. You'll stay with me and the second we're sure of your safety off the Ark. We'll bring you back."

Conner was silent for a moment. Jazz knew that he probably had been kept in places for a long time, and maybe, just maybe he was gaging whether this was a good or bad thing. Whether Jazz really meant what he said about keeping him safe. Frankly, he figured he was thinking a lot of things, but as he was no mind reader he was left wondering until he finally spoke up.

When he did, his response surprised him. "OK."

"OK?" Jazz asked.

"Yeah," Conner replied, his voice quiet. "If you were going to hurt or use me. I figure you would have already. And I guess I really can't say much. I can't go up against giant robots. So just... OK."

Well, that was certainly a better answer than Jazz had expected. He sat there for a long moment, reading the boy's features. And for the first time - noticed something he hadn't before: real trust. Perhaps hope this was a sign that Jazz was reading between the lines, that he was actually looking out for his well-being. Perhaps not as much as Jazz would have liked, but enough that Conner wasn't afraid to be there or with him anymore.

It was only a start, but a start was better than nothing. "Good, I'm glad you're OK with that," Jazz explained. "So, did you find anything fun on TV?"

For the moment, he told himself, regardless of what life he came from, at least he could use this time to give him the life he deserved.

* * *

A/N: Woo, that was hard to type/write out in a way that came off good in my mind. Hopefully this paid off though!


	8. A Wake Up Call

A/N: Alright, so before we get to the story, I'm going to address the guest review. Since I do feel that everyone has the right to their opinion, however, I do think some things need to be clarified.

THEPINKNUTHATCH: First of all, I do think you are mistaken at Jazz's concerns last chapter. I am very aware, as is anyone that watches the news, that kids who are rich are kidnapped all the time. Some are even, yes, sold into slavery. But it is the LATTER that Jazz and the Autobots find unusual, because yes, it is unusual as they say. Most rich children who are kidnapped, in the experience of the research I have, yes, done, are kidnapped for ransom and/or later murdered. I have yet to come across more than one or two stories on the contrary - and thus I myself would find it rather strange as well.

Now, onto your second point: I would like to assure everyone reading this fic that I have done **extensive** hours of research over several years on children in foster care, as well as trauma victims, kidnap vicitms, etc. And one of the many things I have learned is you can't lump them all into one group. You have the right to believe his reactions aren't realistic - but I most definitely have done all my research and then some. And spent many nights sobbing from stories I've subjected myself to reading as a result of it.

I thank you for your constructive criticism - and will take the latter into account. But do hope that this will clear things up for you, and anyone else who may think in a similar manner.

Now, onto the story!

* * *

 **CHAPTER 8  
A Wake Up Call**

The gutteral, ear piercing scream was the start of the longest night of Jazz's whole life.

He had his blaster out at once, prepared for anything: a Decepticon invasion, some sort of intruder, something - but definitely not this. It took him several seconds to realize that the screams belonged to Conner and even longer to wake himself up enough to see what the boy was doing.

The sheets on his berth had already been torn away, and the boy was thrashing. If one didn't know better, they may have wondered if the child was fighting against some invisible force. But Jazz - and most of the other Autobots, had been told previously of night terrors and this qualified. But that wasn't entirely what had scared Jazz.

What scared Jazz was how violent the non-existent struggle became.

Conner's first punch at the wall landed hard. So much so Jazz wondered how he hadn't already broken his knuckles - and the same could be said for the kick too. He threw himself from one side to the other and had begin to shriek. "NO! NO! Get away from me! Please, stop! STOP!"

Every paternal instinct Jazz had rose to the surface. He was on his feet before he even had registered his actions himself. "Conner, Conner, buddy. It's OK. You're OK. I'm here kiddo," he found himself saying without even much of a thought, crouching low. "Wake up! Come on, you're having a nightmare. Conner..."

He began to shake him gently, which did the trick. But it did him no good. Conner screamed, and fought harder when his fingers started to try to trace his back - to comfort him. The fight or flight reaction it seemingly initiated caught Jazz completely off-guard. "Don't touch me! DON'T TOUCH ME!" he shouted so shrilly Jazz felt an ache in audio receptors. "I wanna go home!"

Jazz didn't give up, tightening his grip a little but not enough to hurt him. "Conner, shhhh. Buddy it's me Jazz. Remember your friend, Jazz? It's OK buddy, you're safe. No one's hurting you," he tried every soothing technique he knew in the book. "You're in our quarters kiddo, not-."

"Safe!? I'm never safe! Never gonna be safe!" Conner shouted. "You're grabbing me in bed!"

"I'm trying to calm you down! Conner, breathe, you know I won't hurt you."

"No I don't!"

And that's when Conner slipped through his grip and did the thing Jazz hadn't expected: ran for it.

The mech was fully awake and alert now, quickly getting to his feet as he sprinted into the hallway after him. Panicked that the boy was not in the right state of mind - and may do something rash, he looked both ways. But Conner was clearly a fast little fellow, as he was already nowhere to be found. "Jazz what's the matter? I heard screaming," Prowl noted as he stepped out of his quarters some feet down the hallway. "Are you and Conner alright?"

"I'm fine. But Conner just made a run for it. He had a night terror, he flipped out and... Frag, I don't even know what just happened!" Jazz's voice cracked a bit, panic filling his processor. "Slag it, if he gets off the ship this time of night, he could get himself hurt!"

Prowl was alert right away too, knowing that Jazz was right. None of them wanted Conner to feel like a prisoner, but the idea that the boy was not in the right state of mind scared him. "I'm coming Red Alert to try and find him, Jazz," he explained. "Come on, he couldn't have gotten too far at this point."

"I'm worried he's gonna hurt himself," Jazz admitted. "I've never seen him like that, Prowl. That was... That was scary."

The SIC shook his head, and crossed the hallway to get a hold of Jazz's shoulder. "Jazz, don't tell me you didn't expect this to happen eventually. He's been a captive of slavers for years. I'm surprised it took this long for him to have an episode of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder," Prowl explained - his voice trying to keep calm. "Come on, we need to find him before he _does_ try to do something dangerous to himself. You won't help him standing around in shock."

"Right," Jazz replied. "Did Red find him?"

"Heading down the eastern hallways."

Jazz moved as fast as he possibly could with Prowl right on his tail.

* * *

Jazz knew he'd run out of the ship.

By the point Red Alert had informed them of such, they'd got Hound and Bumblebee to wake up and aid them in the search. Jazz felt his tanks churning as he drove around in the dark night. They'd been searching the area for a good hour by now, and no one had reported finding him. Though Primus knew they were looking - even if not all of the Autobots knew Conner they were all rightly concerned about him and his state of mind.

For the third time, he transformed up, and began shouting. "Conner! Conner! It's me Jazz!" his voice echoed along the large rocky terrain without any sign of response. "Frag it, if anything happened to that kid after all of this..."

Well he didn't want to finish that sentence - because he wasn't sure how _his_ state of mind would be if that happened.

He continued to trudge along and search. Using the headlighs on his chest to continue to light the dark areas in hopes that he'd catch sight of his charge. "Jazz!" Hound finally shouted through the darkness. "I found him!"

He transformed down, and floored it at the words of his comrade. It didn't take long to find Hound, but when he did, his concern definitely deepened. Hound was standing in front of a small rock formation that seemingly was too low for him to reach through - but probably just small enough that a small kid like Conner could. Primus, was he hiding?

Transforming into his bipedal form, his fears were confirmed instantly. Sure enough, Conner was in the fetal position beneath the rock formation, back pressed against it, and sobbing quietly. His body was trembling quietly, and he'd clearly urinated himself by this point from fear. It made Jazz's spark break to see the boy like this - so defeated and terrified that he'd had to hide like this.

Setting his hand on top of it, Jazz crouched low. "Conner... Hey buddy, it's alright," the boy's eyes darted up fearfully toward his guardian, but he didn't move. "Kiddo, we've been worried sick. Come on, let's get you back to The Ark and cleaned up."

"No!"

Hound looked quietly at Jazz, concern in his optics. They could reach in and grab him, with some struggle no doubt, but they still could. But both knew that unless they got him to come out himself that may even further damage the human's psyche. "Hey, Conner. We're your friends kiddo. Remember? We aren't gonna hurt you," he tried, voice shaky. "I don't fully get what happened but if you're afraid of us, you don't have to be. No one's gonna hurt you."

Conner sobbed a little harder, burying his face. "That's what a lot of people have said. Then they say I'm staying longer - like you said! I'm not falling for it again! I'm NOT!" Jazz suddenly felt his spark sink further realizing it had been there talk earlier in the day that triggered the night terror and this - even if he had said "OK". "I said it was OK but it's not! I'm not!"

Jazz did the one thing he knew he could and reiterated what he'd said earlier. "Conner, we're keeping you at the Ark to protect you," he explained. "Buddy, I care what happens to you. And I promise you, no one is ever going to hurt you like that again. OK?"

"You can't promise that! No one can," Conner murmured. "They're still out there..."

Both mechs sighed, not sure what to say about that. Sure, they could say anything they wanted to, but Conner was right. They couldn't exactly guarantee his safety, anything could go wrong. They could promise to protect him - and they would, but there was no telling what could happen. "And if you stay out here, they'll find you faster - if they ever find you at all," Hound noted, sitting down and motioning Jazz to do the same. "Conner, I don't care if you don't want to move from under that rock. But I'm not leaving, not until you do. Because I'm not leaving you out here alone."

"You can't make me!" Conner insisted.

"No one's trying to," Jazz said as he also took a seat. "I can even com Prowl. I can have him bring you a change of clothes. Because those wet ones can't be comfortable now."

The boy shifted, but his crying didn't cease. It was clear that this was going to take a lot longer than Jazz had hoped. He hadn't seen this coming - but Prowl was right, he should have. He should have prepared better for Conner's trauma spells - should have done something. "Conner," he finally managed to speak up again. "I know you're scared... Slag, I would be too. But trust me, kid. I wouldn't ever hurt you, or let anyone hurt you if I could help it. I just want you somewhere I can keep you safe, and help you feel safe..."

And then came the words that Jazz feared he'd hear: "I never really feel safe anywhere. I come close with you, but every time I want to trust you," Conner's voice sounded so defeated. "I don't know if I can trust you Jazz..."

Jazz was silent, his optics meeting Hound's. The other mech nodded at him to continue to speak to Conner. After all, he had gotten him to talk and that was a start. "I get that, bud. I really do... And I don't blame ye, since you haven't had a lot of reason to trust," Jazz explained. "But at least you're trying. Even though slag has happened to you in life you aren't letting that beat you."

Conner scoffed. "I just did, didn't I?"

"Not if you come out," the special ops bot explained. "Please, Conner. Keep letting me try to help you. Don't let those fraggers win like that..."

There was a heavy silence that followed that, which Jazz could only hope meant that Conner was thinking. After what felt like hours, Conner shifted a little. "If I come out there... And you're lying to me. I'll run again, and this time I won't let you find me."

Jazz took a deep breath, relieved it sounded as though Conner was deciding to come out. He moved forward slowly, and then added. "I promise, Conner. That won't happen," he explained. "Come on out, kiddo. Let us get you home and you can get cleaned up. Then you can try sleeping again."

It took him a minute to realize he'd used the word "home". It probably wasn't his best choice of words - but right now he just hoped it might work to further coax him out.

Ten minutes passed, and finally, Conner crawled his way out. Allowing Jazz to gently take him in the palm of his hand and lift him up as he stood to his full height. "I'll com the others and let then know Conner's safe with us," Hound told him, relief etched in his own voice. "Come on, let's get you back, kid."

Conner didn't reply this time, he just nodded. His sobs had started to become controlled, and Jazz could tell he was at least somewhat beginning to calm down. But Jazz didn't think he'd ever get the mental image of the child under that rock from his processor. Or better yet, ever get the mental image of the look that Conner gave him now out of it either.

Those eyes, that earlier that day had the beginnings of trust. Now looked at him as if he wasn't sure what he felt anymore. Trust, distrust, fear? It was as if a combination of all of those inhabited this child. And for the first time since they'd taken him, Jazz had to finally face and accept just how deep his trauma went.

And that made it so that Conner was hardly the only one scared. As for the first time, Jazz wondered if he had any sort of prayer to ever make a permanent difference to his life at all. Or if in the end, no matter how hard he tried, Conner would not heal. He would never put his full trust in him, nor would he ever really be "alright".

As he carried the boy back, all of this weighing on his mind, he hoped he was wrong.

* * *

A/N: Ugh, another sad and rough chapter to write. But it had to happen eventually, of course.


	9. Deep Thoughts

A/N: Again, time to address a review.

GUEST: Thank you for your kind words! People with a story like yours are why I ultimately write these stories. To give a voice to people who have been through trauma. So I'm glad that my stories can resonate with you on that level.

I've also decided to make this part of the KTA movement going on. So yay for that!

* * *

 **CHAPTER 9  
Deep Thoughts**

The next morning, Jazz waited up as Conner slept on, not wanting to leave him after the night before.

The boy was sleeping silently, having fallen into a deeper one upon their arrival. His spark still ached quietly for the young boy, wondering what was going through his mind at the moment. He'd already become so attached to Conner - something he knew was dangerous, but he couldn't help. And the result was the fact that the thought of him being so vulnerable and hurt made him sad.

He didn't know what this was. Every thought that he had making him chuckle as he drew the same conclusion: he was viewing Conner as a surrogate son.

No way, Jazz told himself, he was not the creator type.

Sure he was good with kids, great really, but he'd never seen himself being a sire. Every time he'd thought of it in the past his processor returned to the Cybertronians who created him. His spark had come from the merging of theirs and a part of him always worried that he'd end up a deadbeat like them. He'd always been a rebellious mech, even being brought up by great adoptive ones, after all.

He ran his fingers along his forehelm and thought about this all again in his mind. He'd had so many flings over the years, friends often joked he may already be one and not know it. As sad as it was that it was true, Jazz doubted he'd ever really find out - especially not with as much time as he had spent away from his home planet at this rate.

So with all of this in mind, why would he feel so... Protective? Nurturing? All around strange toward this little human? Jazz wasn't sure, but he knew that if he was starting to feel that way there would be more problems down the road ahead than anything.

A quiet yawn drew him from his thoughts as he turned to see that Conner had woken up. With a bright smile, he attempted to draw away the thoughts from before. "Hey bud, you sleep better?" he asked with as much friendliness as he could. "I mean - ye seemed to since you didn't make much more noise..."

Conner hummed a bit. "I was OK," he murmured as his eyes stared up at Jazz. "I uhhh... I'm sorry, about yesterday."

Jazz looked stunned that he would even apologize for being so scared. Jazz was silent for a long moment, and then added. "Conner, you have no reason to be sorry. Whatever that nightmare was obviously scared you," he explained, trying to keep the boy calmed. "You hungry, kiddo? I can imagine you are since you practically slept until the afternoon."

He only got a quiet nod, but set out to getting him some breakfast as the boy sat down at a seat in the room. Jazz made sure to keep a close "eye" so-to-speak on the boy to make sure he didn't break down or anything. Mostly, he seemed very tired and worn down, present by the bags that were under his eyes and the sheepish look to him.

Carefully placing a plate of food down in front of him, Jazz looked at him thoughtfully. After a moment, he decided that this silence would get them nowhere, and thus spoke up. "You know, Conner, it's OK to be scared," Jazz surprised the boy with those words. "I'm scared sometimes... Even if I don't show it. But what we need to work on helping you with is finding a healthier way for you to express it."

Conner shook his head, biting into his food. "Yeah, and when do you get scared?"

"Well for one, I was scared taking you in," Jazz told him honestly. "I don't know a whole lot about kids. I'm good with them, but I never had them of my own. And I mean... That takes a lot you know? I was scared, just like I bet you were scared."

The boy couldn't deny that - and the fact Jazz had been scared, he was likely stunned. "But you're still taking care of me."

"Yep! And I don't regret it either!"

"How do you do something like that? Look past your fears?"

Jazz smiled a little, knowing it was a good question with multiple different answers. Putting on his best "guardian thinking cap", however. He thought of the simplest and understandable response he could. "Sometimes you just gotta trust that everything will work out in the end in my case. Because I think everything happens for a reason," he explained honestly, then added. "In your case though. You have to find some way to remind yourself that you're not in that situation anymore. Somehow, some way you have to find some way to trust us."

"But that's hard." Conner replied solemnly.

"Of course it is. You've been hurt and betrayed. But nothing in life that's worth trying is easy," Jazz replied, a statement that couldn't be more true. "But you're doing a good job. I mean, you didn't try running away again last night. You came back and put your trust in me again. And you know what that means, Conner?"

"What?"

"You're a fighter," Jazz replied, surprising the boy yet again. "You're not going to let these fraggers get you down. And at the end of the day, if you ask me - you're going to be one strong kid because of that."

That stunned Conner to silence, and Jazz knew Conner had probably never heard someone say something like that in his life. He could imagine that the child had been told he was "used goods" or maybe even that he was "nothing". But to be told he would be strong and that he was a fighter... Well, the sparkle in Conner's eyes seemed to say it all.

He just hoped that Conner would take that to heart.

* * *

"How's Conner holding up?"

Jazz looked up from his work to see that Prowl had come into his office. The mech sighed quietly, leaning back in his chair as he did. "He's doing better. I think he's at least back to trusting what mechs he does know..."

"For now."

"Yeah, for now. I mean we can't expect him to trust us all permanently overnight."

Prowl nodded in response before crossing over to sit himself down in front of Jazz's desk. They'd had a lot of talks like this in the past, but usually Jazz was on the other side. This time, Jazz knew his friend was probably concerned of how he was holding up. "And what about you? You handled getting Conner back well, but I can't imagine you're doing half as well as you want him to believe," Jazz was silent, trying to direct his attention elsewhere. "I know it was a scary situation, Jazz, but..."

Jazz held up his hand to stop his friend before he could continue on. After all, of all of his friends he knew he could trust to keep a secret, it was Prowl. "That ain't what's bugging me. Conner's OK, he didn't hurt himself, and he's back here now," he explained, then after a deep breath spoke up. "I think I'm getting attached to him, Prowler."

Of course, the SIC didn't look even the slightest bit shocked. "You're just now realizing that? You were already getting attached to him when you brought him back from the forest. Even I could see that," Prowl explained. "And let me be the first to say tread lightly Jazz. He isn't our species, and we don't know anything about his parents yet..."

"Whoa! Whoa! Back up, I didn't mean that I... I mean, I guess he's sort of like my surrogate youngling at this point but I didn't actually think," Jazz looked nervously, trying to figure out exactly how to phrase this. "C'mon, Prowler. You know I didn't mean it like that. I've always been a lone wolf. I haven't even settled down and bonded yet, I'd be so wrong for that kid."

Prowl tilted his helm, seemingly surprised by his friend's answer. "Neither had I when I adopted Bluestreak. Yet he ended up being one of the best things that happened to me," Prowl explained - a fond smile crossing his face as he mentioned this. "But-."

Jazz shook his head. "This is a really different situation Prowl. Praxus had just been blown up, Blue had nowhere else to go," Jazz explained, trying to keep calm. "I'm just hoping once we get all this sorted out he goes somewhere he'll be taken care of better. Frag it, I'm not exactly perfect at this. And I can't imagine anyone would feel too great about growing up on a warship."

The tactician chuckled, probably because he felt he'd have to explain that to Jazz himself on the latter. And yet... "I'm glad you understand that, Jazz. But even so I know how easy it is to fall out of that mentality," Jazz frowned a little, but knew that Prowl was right. "I'm not saying you need to go so far into the pessimistic side. While you're taking care of him, you SHOULD treat him as your own. I'm just saying you need to be careful of getting too attached."

Jazz was silent, staring at the ground. "I know. But if I do... I'm worried," Jazz murmured. "I suppose it's pretty stupid to worry though. What human government agency would give a kid to me anyway?"

Prowl shrugged his shoulders, that was a good question after all. "I don't know. I guess it would be all about circumstances. But it would be best to get it out of your head, Jazz," he explained. "Just enjoy the time you have with him. And keep helping him... The future is never something that can be precisely predicted."

Again, Jazz was silent before he added. "But it wouldn't be so bad. I mean, if he did end up staying with me. I like having him here. He's good company," he admitted. "Though last night might have helped knock me down a peg. He really _did_ scare me."

"Bare in mind before you build any scenarios in your head that's just the first of many episodes, I'm sure."

Jazz shuddered to think that his charge would continue to have PTSD episodes. But he knew it was true - try as anyone might they couldn't kill a real life monster like whoever did this to him. Even if you killed the physical person, it didn't make them go away where it mattered: in the minds eye. "I hope we really do find these freaks," he added. "Someone needs to pay for making him that scared of trusting people."

Prowl's doorwings gave a twitch in response, but he clearly agreed. Someone did deserve to pay for what they'd done to someone as young as Conner. But whether they'd ever see justice? Well, that was hard for one to tell until they knew just how far this group branched. "I think we all agree he deserves justice. And somewhere he can feel safe," he then explained. "And we will find him both, that much I know. Optimus Prime himself wouldn't have it any other way."

Jazz nodded his head. "I'm just worried about what happens next for him after that."

He shook his head. "That just means you're a good mech, Jazz," Prowl told him. "Remember that. No matter what happens to him, you've done a good thing too."

Jazz still felt guilty that he wasn't sure if he'd want to take him if it came to that. But he wouldn't make a good parent anyway would he? The humans wouldn't probably even allow it, would they? He asked himself these questions again in his head, and realized just how much time he was already devoting to thinking about the subject today alone.

He had a felling it would be haunting his thoughts for a very long time.


End file.
